


Crying Blood And Bleeding Tears: Forsaken Memories

by thegirlwholoveshorror



Series: Don't Stop Smoking And Drinking [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angsty Schmoop, Awkward Tension, Bittersweet Ending, Dorms, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Moving Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwholoveshorror/pseuds/thegirlwholoveshorror
Summary: Jensen isn't particularly pleased to find that, somewhere along the line, Jared had gone and set the bar incredibly high for other men in regards to his heart. If he wasn't so unbelievingly shy and too embarrassed to talk about it, he'd rip Jared a new one.Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It's a fictional story about fictional representations of real people...





	Crying Blood And Bleeding Tears: Forsaken Memories

**Author's Note:**

> As the imagery and thoughts flood my mind, I write. All the works in this series are part of the same story but are set at different moments in the timeline. I'm not quite sure if I'm doing this well and if what I'm doing is something that's being done before.

May 6 2008

Jensen sat in the centre of the bus isle at the complete **back** of the bus. On his way home from school, this was an everyday occurrence. His school bag sat on the seat next to him, to his left; usually slung over his arm, it was now tossed aside like a feather pillow, suddenly forgotten. The buses were slow which often resulted in their lateness, and Jensen found himself frustrated with them more often than not, with more time than he’d like to have to think about all the reasons why he hates this town. It was seven o’clock in the evening on a beautiful spring day in May, and he was stuck on this godforsaken bus, weighing out the consequences of having to grow up and live in the shittiest of all towns. In any case, Jensen’s day was now over, and he was pissed and depressed about whom he was, where he lived and everything in between, being pulled apart at the seams.

It was one of Jensen's town’s buses. Of course, it was more of a city than a town given the size of the population here, but if you took into account the size of the City next-door and the mentally of the people here, it could definitely be considered a town; although, by definition, it should be said that Jensen lived in the suburbs of a ginormous city, not in a town or in a city. This place was nowhere. It was nothing.

And, at any rate, Jensen was in no mood to hear anything except his music.

Maybe it was better to just not think at all. Maybe if he ignored his feelings, they would just disappear. Maybe none of this was real.

With earphones in his ears and music blasting away, he let the thumb from his right hand smooth over the buttons at the front of his mp3 player, listening to all kinds of music, anything and everything to keep him from thinking intensely and analytically, anything and everything to block out the sounds from his environment; these sounds fell into his mind, bothered him and meddled with his brain, against everything else...

With over 2 500 songs on his mp3 player, Jensen never had to worry about not having anything to listen to, not having anything to convey his emotions or influence his actions... After all, Jensen was never one to react accordingly to others’ idiosyncrasies and thought processes, in a fashion of course that met society’s fickle standards throughout their vanity and greed. Mercifully, the music told him how to feel and what to do when things unravelled to his discord and there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape to... God, Jensen hated those moments.

And so, Jensen buried himself in his music whenever surrounded by a chattering crowd or faced with the unnerving, deep pin drop **silence** that engulfed him and everything around him, everything and everyone just falling into the silence, as if the silence could take us to a place that we’d never been and never intended to go, in a series of incremental steps, caught somewhere between far away and much too close. How could Jensen hold his ground in such a context?  Wherever there was a silence, after all, there had to be disturbances at some point, and Jensen would be damned if he’d let it all get the best of him. Given the chance, he’d hide his face from the rest of the world and bury himself deep into his music, adjusting his mood, unknowingly trying to find ways to battle against his stress and anxiety, looking for ways to relax and disengage...

There was always more work to do, and the more work Jensen did, the more he worried about all things combined, indecision and gloom etched into his boyishly handsome features like a tattoo or something equally permanent; as his eyes lingered, his heart and mind raced to keep up with the aggressions of his stone-cold environment, a flush of despair, anguish and dejection forever expanding throughout his universe.

With a red ball cap pulled down over his eyes, over his ash-blond hair, he let his mind wander; sighing and leaning back against his seat, as far away as possible from everybody else on the bus. Of course, except for the driver and himself, the bus was completely empty with no other passengers aboard, but it might as well have been packed and full because Jensen never felt like he was alone anymore, not with all the noise and his racing thoughts that constantly brought him to the brink of madness. It's as if the nagging voice of his peers were engraved into his brain.

_So many elements to consider, so little time, so much at stake..._

Of course, his whole life, Jensen had felt like something was wrong with the world, and he felt it like a splinter in his mind, but no one could acknowledge it like he could - could understand it like he could -, and so it felt as though he was born into bondage, having to remind himself to not let what he couldn't see interfere with what he could see. God, why did life have to be such a bitch all the time?

But, Jensen was holding on.

A minute later, the bus came around a curve and to a **stop**. Jensen paid no attention and therefore barely noticed it when it happened because he was not interested in questions of conscience. The cynical part of him told him to stay focused on the status quo.

However, from his position at the back of the bus, he could see everything inside of the bus.

Perhaps it should have surprised Jensen when, all so suddenly, an extremely attractive young man entered the bus and walked right to the back of the bus only to sit right next to him, to his right, so close that his thigh pressed against his when he moved, his left arm brushing back and forth against his as he shifted. He could feel his presence: firm, strong and unchanging. He could even feel his body heat.

Blinking blearily, Jensen removed the earphones from his ears and turned to look at the boy next to him, annoyed and upset from having been pulled out of his silent reverie by a boy who was much too upbeat and jovial for his liking. Like a puppy looking to be petted, he grinned and looked into Jensen’s dry eyes as though seeking a friend. Jensen had trouble understanding what this 'dweeb' was up to.

As darkness had cast his vision just a few moments prior, a new vision had now been cast on him by this young boy.

“Evening,” His lips curled into a soft smile, flustered and grinning; it made Jensen's heart squeeze. “I'm Jared,”

It was the kind of thing that Jensen hated; this 'touchy feely crap' just made him want to hit this boy in the face with an axe. _So much nonsense..._ Why was this boy invading his space? Why was he so happy to see Jensen? Why was he so excited? How could he be so high on life when he was riding on crappy public transport? Why would he allow this total stranger to come give him what might just become a giant bear hug? Jensen was utterly disconsolate. But there was just something so familiar about him, almost comforting. He didn't understand why he had this feeling.

“Hey,” Jensen said, feeling somewhat angry. “I'm Jensen,”

 _It is important_ , Jensen thought, _to socialise._ And it's not like this boy was too rough on the eyes...

“I'm not good with names. Can I call you Edwin?” He said, wistfully looking at him.

“Only if I can call you Alexander,”

His smile was infectious and it was testing his resolve, but Jensen's heart was made of stone. Through guilt and innocence, it remained; for his resolve was directly tied to his own self-respect. It was rooted in duty, firm and unyielding, and would not dissipate at any cost, especially not for some starry-eyed little earth angel, with dreams of conquering the world, but later settling on protecting it, in the distance...

“Are you a student at Juvia's? I just started there. I'm in the army; I enrolled last summer...” His smile grew wider. His foot moved forward on the floor as he grabbed Jensen's right hand with his left hand, his other hand reaching into his shirt's pocket for a pen.

 _So, he had only just finished high school..._ He was eighteen then. Jensen huffed: Jensen was **nineteen**. 

“Here's my e-mail, Edwin,” And, just like that, he etched his e-mail across Jensen's hand in ink.

“We should definitely hang out sometime. I live in the college's dormitories,” His gaze was something Jensen couldn't quite identify. It was something foreign to him: warm, soft, sweet, watchful... It was hypnotic. “What's yours?” He added, all the while his eyes shining brightly.

Feeling suddenly feverish, Jensen blinked nervously. He was the kind of guy that was usually sullen and withdrawn.

Pulling a pen and piece of paper out of his bag, Jensen proceeded to write his own e-mail down before handing it over to Jared.

“Here you go, Alexander,” Jensen felt a bit stunned. It's as if Jensen's world spun in circles.

“Well, this is my stop, Edwin,” Jared said. A second later, he was jumping up from his seat and turning to look down at Jensen. “Bye,”

With a wink, he turned on his feet and was almost prancing towards the door, then exiting the bus with his school bag over his shoulder.

They were passing by the mall. Clearly, he must have had business to do there.

\-------------------------

Jensen walked down the corridor of the male dormitories with measured steps, peering and glancing apprehensively around himself, dark grey carpet beneath his feet, black and white striped wallpaper on the walls... There was a strange odour in the corridor: spices, chicken curry, fish...

After going through the entryway, Jensen had found that the hallway was like a maze of smaller rooms opening off the main area, like a **bunker** or a jail. Each room couldn't be more than 85-square feet. From where Jensen stood, halfway down the corridor, he could see a window at the end of the hall, and, through that window, he could see the blue-gray bulk of the Riverside that was not too far away in the distance.

It was the evening of the first day of the week.

As Jensen got to the end of the hallway, he turned his head to the right when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and, through the open doorway next to him, saw a narrow kitchen with a fit, 'I-guess-you-could-say-attractive' boy standing shirtless at the stove in a pair of rolled up gym shorts, cooking; the area next to him was swathed in a cloud of steam. The boy was stirring a pot of what seemed to be Ramen noodles, just a few feet away from Jensen. The floorboards in the kitchen were bare and gritty.

He had to be cooking supper. After all, it was about 5:30 PM; the school day was over.

After a moment spent looking around awkwardly for Jensen, the boy then smiled and looked Jensen up and down, his smile growing into something a little bit sleazy. He took a step towards him. Jensen gripped the strap on his bag tightly, almost creating a fist. “Can I help you?”

Jensen fidgeted. He felt like a deer caught in the **headlights** of an oncoming truck. “Do you know Jared? I'm here to see Jared,”

Just as soon as the words were spoken, the door right behind Jensen opened. Jared appeared next to him in a dark green shirt, hair messy and eyes sparkling. His smile was bright and his voice filled with cheer. Jensen suddenly felt at home. “Hey, Edwin,”

Jensen smiled, although, he knew that, above his grin, his eyes would always be sad. Jensen hoped that it didn't show right now. “Hi, Alexander,”

Looking back at the boy, Jensen felt unease settle in his stomach as the boy winked at Jared, then turned to Jensen and said “Bye”. All smooth movements and fluid motions, the boy returned to the kitchen, as Jensen followed Jared into his room.

Jensen pulled his jacket off and tossed it on the bed next to him as he sat down quietly at the foot of the bed, looking around and then down at his hands, twisting the bottom of his shirt nervously between his fingers. Jensen had never done something like this before. What was he doing?

After closing the door behind them, Jared walked over to his computer chair at the end of the room, next to the small window that faced out onto the front of the college, sat down and then swivelled around slightly to smile at Jensen. “Do you like System of a down? They're my favourite band,”

Jensen nodded, and then Jared leant over to his laptop to choose a song of theirs on whatever special software he had and start the music.

Now leaning back in his seat, Jared reached for the pack of cigarettes that sat on the desk next to him; he opened it, then pulled out a **cigarette** and proceeded to light it. “Do you smoke?” He asked, all the while shielding the flame with his hand.

Jensen felt warmth take over his heart. This was so easy. “Yeah, I do,” Jensen pulled a pack of cigarettes out from his backpack.

Jared leant over from his chair to light the cigarette now hanging from Jensen's lips, his own lit cigarette hanging off the edge of his lips. 

“Do you want some coffee?” He asked, leaning back once more, a heavy glint in his eyes, all the while turning around briefly to pull an ashtray off his desk and hand it to Jensen. He then stood up for a second, just to open the window behind him. A crisp breeze blew in. It was raining.

“Are you kidding? I love coffee,” There were no better words after all to describe Jensen's love for coffee than a blunt, 'I love coffee'.

Jared laughed and then made them coffee. The coffee tasted like butt - or what Jensen would imagine butt tastes like at least -, but he didn't mention it because he was having a good time. He wanted to give Jared a shot, give him a chance...

There were no troublesome thoughts here, no hassles, no stress...

Like a blur of colours and shapes, everything just seemed to fade into some beautiful and **majestic**. Jared's smile and laugh had an impact on Jensen; against his better judgment, it made his lips turn up into a heart-warming grin. It lit the room up and made Jensen feel like he was wrapped up in sunshine. It's so strange, but Jared's soul was putting him to ease. It fogged up his senses and made his heart melt.

What was happening? What was the reason for this? Could this be a dream?

Over the course of the next hour, Jared proceeded to show Jensen all of his army gear: his boots, his cap, his bag... He had pulled all of it out of his closet, at the end of the room next to the entrance. Starry-eyed and with childlike wonder, he told Jensen of his experiences thus far in the army and how he'd spend every weekend out in the woods or in the swamps, training and such.

The conversations that followed about art, school, work, music and all things combined captured the essence of their ideas shared.

Jensen was amazed and pleasantly surprised by how much they had in common. Jensen's father had been in the military for 30 odd years. They both loved learning and books as well as experimenting and being rebellious whenever they could, although their love of discipline and hard work was stronger and more absorbing than anything else. They both had a strong sense of intuition and an intense desire to find their calling.

\-------------------------

The next time Jensen came around to see Jared in the dorms, he wasn't there. He'd been stood up. The realisation of it twisted through him like a knife for a moment. He closed his eyes in an attempt to check the sharp ache then shake off the hurt, his chin now pitching forward in a proud angle. How could this be? Didn't Jared care about him at all? Well, it didn't matter anyway. There was no point dwelling on it. Jensen was used to being abandoned. It was a shame though because Jensen had really liked Jared. He had **hoped** that he was different, that they could friends...

It's that fresh surge of hope that infuriated Jensen all the more. Hope was a dangerous thing that often led to bitter disappointment.

Jensen was ashamed for having felt something for Jared.

A little while later, Jensen got an e-mail from Jared saying that he had signed a lease contract to rent part of a house: the whole second floor of the house, to be exact; the house was out into the country, about an hour away from the college... Jensen would later find out that the house was a manor, out in the Appalachian mountains of NY. Anyway, Jared had forgotten to cancel their meeting, caught up in his everyday meanderings of school and whatnot; and so, he wasn't able to be there for their get-together because of it all. Jared had apologised to him, but Jensen didn't believe his apology was sincere. So, Jared's apology fell on deaf ears. After all, he had stood Jensen up. Jared was just like everyone else. He was just going to quit Jensen once he got to know him; but, Jensen would be damned if he didn't quit him first. He wouldn't let himself get attached and he sure as Hell couldn't bear the thought of having to explain what's wrong with himself to Jared, if they were to get to know each other and become friends of course. He couldn't face the rejection that would occur if that happened. Everyone always left Jensen. So, what was the point?

So, Jensen lost all contact with Jared then as he studied, worked and tried to cope with family issues as well as any social issues that came his way: and, by God, these issues were colossal ones at times! Amongst it all though, he did his best to hold it together, even though his anxiety levels were through the roof more often than not. But he couldn't afford to give up, couldn't afford to fall apart; oh, the irony!

As for Jared, well, let's just say that he didn't bother to keep in touch with Jensen.

It wasn't until the winter of 2009 that they even saw each other again, once again on a bus, but this time coming home from the City.

 

\-------------x------------- Throughout the summer of 2008 -------------x-------------

The following summer, while an **eighteen-year-old** Jared dreamt of Jensen more often than not, Jensen pushed hard to forget about his encounters with Jared. Jensen couldn't take the heat and, let's face it, Jared was somewhat of a storm chaser.

But, all in all, as luck would have it, Jensen would become a lawyer, and Jared would travel the world and move up the ranks in the army.

They were destined to lead completely different lives; they were headed in completely different directions.

 

“The mess of me will always be the best of you.” — Hunter Hayes;  _Rescue_

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Jensen and Jared go to a school which stands as an intermediate between high school and college/University. I've called it Juvia's college. It's a bit like a trade school or a community college that can stand alone for you or be done in a way that greases up your wheels before hitting college/University seeing as they give general programs in say, arts and sciences.
> 
> PEACE OUT!


End file.
